Adding Up to Marriage (17 page)

And here's where being good at something besides numbers might've come in handy, because when far too many seconds passed without Silas answering, Jewel gave another unhappy snort and returned to her chore. “Yeah. That's what I thought.”

Helplessness trampled Silas like a bull elephant—a sensation he'd hoped never in his life to feel again. Just like with Amy, he had no earthly idea how to give her what she
needed. In Jewel's case, how to staunch the loneliness she'd clearly determined would be her companion to the grave.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” she said, obviously confused. Even more obviously in agony. “Go figure.”

Funny, how he couldn't remember Amy ever saying she loved him, although she must have at some point. Early on, though. Before things got hard. Before she realized that loving
was
hard, sometimes. Jewel, though…she already understood that. What she didn't understand yet was that
hard
didn't mean
impossible.

But only if both people were willing to work at it. Like his parents did, every day of their lives.

“I'd never hurt you, Jewel. You've got to believe that.”

Several beats ticked by before she turned again, tears bulging over her lower lashes. “And God knows I
want
to believe you. Want to trust what
I
feel. It's like you opened the door for me, and ohmigosh do I like what I see on the other side, but…”

Two tears broke free to streak down her face. “I'm so sorry, Silas,” she whispered. “My problem to work out, sure, but ‘maybe' isn't fair to you, or the boys.”

His own eyes burning, Silas closed the space between them and drew her close, inhaling her scent, brown sugar and vanilla and flowers-in-a-bottle, and for maybe a half minute he held on tight, wishing desperately for a few magic words that would make her change her mind. But what could he say? That he
needed
her?

As if she'd heard him she jerked away, snatching her glasses off the counter.

“Honey…I'm more than willing to take a chance on this—”

“Yeah, well, I'm not. I
can't.
” She shoved her glasses back on, her hair falling in slippery little furrows around
her face. “If you don't mind, I think…I'll just finish up these cookies for you and then…take my stuff back to Eli's.”

He could barely breathe. “If that's what you want—”

“Although if it's okay with you…I think I'll leave the Beanie Babies for the boys?”

“Oh, uh, sure. But…won't you miss them?”

She almost smiled. “No. Oh! But do you need me to make dinner—?”

“Got it covered,” Silas said, even though he didn't. “Well. I guess I'll go get the boys out of Mom's hair.” He cleared his throat. “Will you be here when we get back?”

“It'll take me twenty minutes, tops, to toss everything in my car,” she said, her back to him as she slid first one, then the other sheet into the oven. “So, no.”

With that, Silas was out of words. Or reasons to linger. So he whistled to Doughboy, who'd slept through the whole exchange, and went out to his car, heaving the beast onto the passenger seat and distractedly taking a Handi Wipe to his drool.

“Why am I so lousy at this?” he asked the dog, who gave him a messy schlurp across his chin. Banishing the dog spit with his sleeve, Silas sighed. “I'm really, really gonna miss her, boy.”

With a cross between a whine and a groan, Doughboy plopped his head on Silas's knee and rolled his big, brown bloodshot eyes up at him, the picture of commiseration.

 

The horn honk nearly made Jewel drop the twenty-pound pumpkin she'd just lugged to the other side of Eli's porch. Shielding her eyes from the October sun's last blast of the day, she turned to see, past the For Sale sign at the end of the drive, Noah waving at her from inside that Bad Bart truck of his.

Since she'd left Silas's two weeks before she hadn't run into any of the brothers, despite the house being right next to the family's shop. Seeing Noah now stirred up the heartache all over again. Heartache of her own making, granted, but still. Cutting off something to avoid pain down the road didn't mean it wasn't still going to hurt like holy heck now.

Jewel waved back, fully expecting Noah to drive on. When he didn't, she reluctantly made her way down the porch steps and out to his truck, clutching her jacket closed against the wind.

“Hey,” she said to his sassy grin. Dude was definitely cute, no doubt about it. Even though her hormones were all,
Meh, can't be bothered.

“Hey,” he said, the breeze messing with his light brown hair through the open window. “Whatcha been up to?”

Jewel shrugged. “Nothin' much. Packing. Studying. Measuring pregnant bellies. The usual. You?”

He nodded toward the sign. With the big old Sold sticker slapped across it. “You find a place yet?”

“Sorta. The Blacks are going to Ireland for the month. Winnie asked me to dog/chicken/house sit. Buys me a little more time to decide what comes next.”

“You're staying in Tierra Rosa, though, right?”

Jewel forced a smile. “We'll see.”

Noah looked away, tapping the steering wheel with his thumb. “You gonna ask me about my brother?”

“Sure thing. How's Eli getting on?” His gaze swung to hers and she sighed. “It's a small town, Noah. If anything was going on with Silas or the boys, I'm sure I'd find out.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or did he send you to spy on
me?
”

“You kidding? He'd have kittens if he knew I was here.”

Jewel shoved her hands in her pockets. “Then why
are
you here?”

“I can't swing by to see how you're doing?”

Out of nowhere, the loneliness swamped her. That she'd lose her mind if she spent one more night with nothing to keep her company but her textbooks and her packing boxes and reruns of
The Gilmore Girls.

“You got plans for tonight?” she asked.

“Nnnnno,” Noah said, suspicion flashing in his eyes. “Why?”

“Hold on,” she said, then ran back into the house, grabbed her purse and streaked back out before she could change her mind. The look on Noah's face when she yanked open the passenger door and climbed in was priceless.

“While you're swinging,” she said, “how about swinging me out to dinner?”

“You sure that's a good idea?”

“Since I'm starving I think it's an excellent idea.”

Noah seemed to ponder this for several seconds before giving the car some gas and steering one-handed away from the curb. “Where'd you like to go?”

“How about the Lone Star? I've never been.”

“You're kidding?”

“I know, huh? I've been here almost two years, too.”

“No, I mean…” He chuckled. “I don't generally connect the Lone Star and ‘dinner' in my head, that's all. Not that there's anything wrong with it, exactly, but…people don't go there for the food. I mean, really, I can spring for dinner someplace where the food isn't served on greasy paper in a plastic basket.”

“I'm not asking you to
spring
for anything. I just…I just want company tonight, okay?”

Beside her, Noah stilled. “You might want to define that.”

Jewel started to laugh, only to realize exactly how close she was to crying. Shoot. “All I'm asking for is somebody to talk to while I eat my greasy burger and fries.” She looked over. “You good with that?”

“What I am, is relieved as hell. Well, okay, then—you got your heart set on the Lone Star, far be it from me to deny you. But you've been warned.”

It took barely five minutes, if that, to get to the bar, situated in what used to be an old house not far from the center of town. It was what it was—kitschy and seedy and rundown—and she loved it from the moment the blinking neon glow embraced the truck as they pulled into the rutted parking lot.

Inside was even better, smelling like grease and booze and every hairstyling product known to humankind, and the space seemed to pulse with indistinguishable country music and people all trying to talk over it, and at least a dozen people called out their “Heys” to Noah—and more than one woman, Jewel noticed, gave her a “Who the heck are you?” once-over that she found strangely gratifying, and she thought,
Yes, perfect.

“Bar or table?” Noah shouted in her ear, close enough that, at one time, she might have gotten all tingly. Yeah, well.

“Bar,” she shouted back, since the only available tables appeared to require night vision goggles if you had half a hope of seeing the person you were with.

Somehow, Noah found them two stools. Jewel planted herself on one, then folded her hands tightly in front of her and ordered a Coke. Beside her, Noah chuckled as his phone buzzed. “Hate to break it to you,” he said, checking it and texting a short message before pocketing it again, “but people don't come here for the ambiance, either. And I'll have whatever's on tap, Ramon,” he said to the paunchy,
steel-haired bartender. “And wouldja add a couple of burgers and fries to that?”

“Sure thing, Noah—”

“Trust me,” Jewel shouted over an eruption of laughter behind them, “you don't want me getting drunk.”

Noah's brow puckered as the bartender called out their orders to the cook in back. “No?”

She shook her head, smiling for Ramon when he set her Coke in front of her, then handed Noah his draft. “No. I sing, I cry, I throw up. Not necessarily in that order. What I do not do, is have fun. Nor does anybody who's with me.”

“Then why are you here?” Noah took a swig of his beer. “Since it's pretty obvious you don't really want to be here with me.”

Jewel sipped her Coke, wishing Noah would quit staring at her like he was trying to dissect her brain. She swung all the way around on her seat, surveying the jovial scene in front of her, forced though it may have been for many of the revelers. “Don't be silly, I can't think of a single person I'd rather be here with.”

“Uh-huh.”

Without moving her head, she cut her eyes to his. Like she couldn't see that smile behind the rim of his glass. She jerked her gaze away again, seriously reconsidering the not-getting-drunk thing. But only for a moment, since she knew that way lay idiocy.

“So why are
you
here?” she said. “With me, I mean?”

“Because shoving you out of my truck would've been awkward?”

She glanced over. “Any more awkward than going out with a girl your brother's—”

At Noah's arched brow, Jewel blushed and once more looked elsewhere.

Noah shifted to lean one elbow on the bar, his head propped in his hand. “You're right, there are some boundaries even I don't cross. Although, just to be clear—Silas hasn't said word one to me about what did or didn't go on between you. Not that it's not patently obvious something did—and if you ask me, still is—but Si's real good about keeping his private life private.” His mouth pulled into a rueful grin. “As much as anybody can in this town. In this
family.
”

Reaching across himself to grab his beer, Noah frowned at the glass for a moment before returning his gaze to hers. “So maybe all I'm doing is taking advantage of an opportunity—” he lifted the glass to his mouth, watching her as he swallowed “—to figure out for myself what was up with that ditzy act of yours.”

Now she really wished she'd ordered something with more of a kick to it. “Ask Silas. We went all over that.”

“So you
admit
it was an act?” When she nodded, Noah said, “Huh,” then tilted the glass in her direction. “You almost had me fooled, I'll give you that. Si, too. Although that's not surprising, considering that what he knows about women you could put on the back of a matchbook.”

“As opposed to you.”

“That's right. Not that I pretend to understand why y'all do half the things you do, but at least I've gotten pretty good at pegging the good-time gals from the ones determined to get a ring on their finger.”

“And I said—”

“I know what you said. And I think you had your reasons for not wanting to get tangled up. Obviously you still have 'em. But if I were to suggest we go back to my place for some good old-fashioned hanky-panky, my guess is you wouldn't exactly jump all over the idea. Or me.”

Her eyes to his. “But you wouldn't do that.”

Noah laughed. “In reality? No. Because A, that's not what you want and B, Silas would kill me. But in theory? If Silas wasn't my brother and you actually liked me…?”

“I do like you, Noah! It's just…”

“Go on. Say it. I dare you.”

“You're a big meanie, you know that?”

“So I've been told,” he said. Grinning. Jewel let out a shuddering sigh, then spun around to prop her elbows on the bar and her head in her hands.

“Dammit, it wasn't supposed to happen like this! Silas was supposed to be
safe,
he wasn't supposed to fall for me!”

“What on earth gave you the idea Silas was safe? Because you wanted him to be?”

She almost strangled on her own laugh. “I really am an idiot, huh?”

Their burgers arrived, the fries still sizzling in their little paper nests. Noah grabbed several and stuffed them into his mouth. “I assume that's a rhetorical question?” Jewel sorta growled at him. He laughed, then grabbed a ketchup bottle and shook it within an inch of its life. “You do know he hasn't even…dallied since Amy, right? Until you, that is,” he said, drowning his fries, and Jewel thought,
Oh, hell-on-a-stick.

“So much for his not saying anything.”

“Even if you hadn't pretty much let it slip yourself a minute ago, the spring in Si's step the next morning kinda gave it away.” When, groaning, Jewel let her head drop onto her arms, Noah said, “Which should've been your first clue right there, that things had changed. For him, anyway.”